Polaris
by Dark Satirist
Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters._

_Author's Note: I found this story in the backlogs of stories I started but never completed. I read through it, made a couple of changes here and there, and am working on cleaning up the ending. I decided to go ahead and post it. It will be about six or seven chapters long. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do._

_Read and review please!!_

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

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What Would Have Been

**Chapter 1**

It is never a good thing to hear the phone ring at one o'clock in the morning and hear a Winchester on the other end of the line. The phone call would ultimately end in someone getting hurt and nearly killed. One would think that after years of knowing the Winchester family, from young Mary before she met John down through the youngest, Sam, Bobby Singer would eventually learn not to answer his phone. But, he never did, not until April 19, 2009 when he was woken up at one o'clock in the morning by the shrill ring of the telephone and heard a Winchester at the other end of the line.

Bobby made it to the hospital in Duluth in record time, breaking all sorts of speed limits and out racing the cops on two different stretches of interstate to get there. He was in a foul temper as he slammed the door to his truck shut and tore off toward the ER of the small hospital. He hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee and he was missing his trucker cap. The latter was beyond belief, but it was the news that had come from a certain Winchester that had sent him into that rushing state that made him forget his trucker cap.

The waiting room for the ER was empty, save for one lone man who sat in the farthest corner away from everything. He had his head in his hands and he looked utterly defeated.

"Dean?"

The man looked up at Bobby, his normally bright green eyes dead with pain and sorrow. Dean looked horrible. He had a long, bloody scratch down one side of his face that stretched from his hairline to his chin. There was a bruise that shadowed one eye. His normally gelled and styled hair was matted with blood and sweat. He was favoring his left arm as he stood up to meet Bobby.

"Bobby, I'm glad you're here," Dean said. His voice sounded as if one were grating two pieces of sandpaper together.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked as he placed a steadying hand on the elder Winchester's shoulder. The man looked as though one breath of wind would knock him over.

Dean slowly nodded his head, focusing on something that Bobby couldn't see. His entire body stiffened underneath Bobby's hand, and slowly, the elderly hunter turned to see what caused such a reaction in Dean.

There was a tall, grisly looking man with salt and pepper hair and spectacles standing in the swinging doors of the waiting room, a serious look on his lined face.

"Mr. James," the man said. It must have been Dean's alias, for he shook ever so slightly and crossed the waiting room to meet the man. Bobby followed close behind, curious to know what happened to Dean to make him react this way, but at the same time dreading the news he was about to hear.

"How's my brother?" Dean all but whispered. His face had gone from pale to white and he was still shaking. Bobby put a hand on his shoulder in attempts to calm him down. It did nothing.

"I'm Dr. Clapper," the man said ignoring Dean's question. "If you'd step into my office for a moment, we'll discuss Samuel's condition in private."

Dean's face grew impossibly whiter as he and Bobby followed Dr. Clapper down a brightly lit corridor and into a small, cluttered office with no windows.

"Have a seat," Dr. Clapper said gesturing toward the two folding chairs that sat on one side of the large desk that took up the majority of the room.

Dean did as he was told, swallowing audibly as he did so. Bobby kept a close eye on him as he sat down next to him, wondering what was going on and why Dean was reacting this way.

"How's my brother?" Dean croaked again. Blood seeped out of the wound on his face and dripped onto his already bloodstained collar, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Samuel is in critical condition," Dr. Clapper said gravely. "He has four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder that we had to relocate twice, and a severe concussion, as you very well know."

Bobby listened attentively, wondering what had caused the sudden rush to the hospital. Though those things weren't exactly a walk in the park, it usually took a lot more than that to land a Winchester in the hospital.

"We're positive those things will heal in time," Dr. Clapper said. "It is the stab wound he received to his lower stomach that is the cause for the concern."

Dean's eyes closed and his face whitened even more, making the black circles underneath his eyelids stand out against his face, giving him a raccoonish appearance.

"Is he going to be okay?" he all but mouthed.

"Samuel has lost a lot of blood and is still losing it very rapidly despite our best efforts to close the wound," Dr. Clapper said removing his spectacles. "The weapon used to stab him also inflicted damage to his organs that is irreparable without extensive surgery, which Samuel is not up to at this moment. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you must prepare yourself. Samuel might not make it through the night."

Bobby felt his heart skip a beat at the horrible news. This could not be happening, he thought. Not to Sam. Granted the kid had been seriously messed up lately with the demon blood addiction and the constant rendezvous with that demon he was fond of, but no one deserved this.

Bobby was pretty certain that Dean was either unconscious or pretty close to passing out at that moment. There wasn't a muscle that moved in the younger man's body, except for the very rapid movements of his chest as he stared at the doctor in shock. An outburst was coming the second Dean could find his voice.

"Can we see him?" Dean asked finally. His voice was hoarse and there were visible, unshed tears in his green eyes, but he somehow managed to keep his voice steady.

"He's in ICU right now," Dr. Clapper said. "I'll show you the way, but I'm afraid its immediate family only. I don't want to put too much stress on Samuel."

"Bobby is my uncle," Dean said. "He practically raised me and Sammy."

Sammy. That was the first time Bobby had heard Dean call his brother that in a long time. Not since they had been reunited after Dean's four month stint in hell.

"All right," Dr. Clapper said with a nod of his head. "Follow me then."

They were led back down the brightly lit corridor and down another one to a small elevator. Dr. Clapper hit the 3 and the doors slid shut.

"Dean?" Bobby asked quietly placing a hand on the man's shoulder. He was worried when Dean didn't say anything, but just looked at him with an utterly defeated look on his face. Bobby had only seen that look on the oldest living Winchester's face once before, and that was when Sam had died back in Cold Oak, three years ago. It took a lot to scare Bobby, but the look on Dean's face scared the hell out of the older hunter.

The doors to the elevator slid open to reveal a dark, windowless corridor. Dr. Clapper led them to a closed door with a number 3 on it and paused.

"I don't think there's anything that could prepare you for what you're about to see," he said. "Sam's hooked up to a lot of machinery right now that's working to keep him alive. It looks pretty bad. And I'm not going to lie to you, it is pretty bad."

There was no sarcastic comment from Dean and that worried Bobby as much as the look in the elevator. There was nothing, nothing except the defeated look and a heavy sigh that Bobby felt more then heard.

Dr. Clapper pushed open the door and let Dean walk inside first. Bobby waited a few moments, debating whether or not to go get coffee or be there for Dean. He decided on the latter.

Dean stood frozen in the middle of the hospital room, staring Sam. Or at least, what Bobby assumed was Sam. There were so many wires and machines that it was impossible to tell where the machines ended and Sam started.

"Sammy," Dean whispered taking the last couple of steps forward and falling gracelessly into the hospital chair.

Bobby took a good look at the youngest Winchester, studying the too pale face that made the dark bruises stand out, the lines of pain even in sleep, the sling on his left shoulder.

"I'm going to get coffee," he grunted. It was going to be a long night. "I'll be back in a bit. You want some?"

Dean gave no indication that he had even heard the older hunter as he continued his silent vigil of staring at Sam.

Bobby sighed as he ran a hand through what little hair he had left. The sight before him was excruciatingly painful for myriad reasons. For one, he hadn't seen the Winchester brothers that close since Dean had come back from Hell. He hadn't see Dean care that much about Sam since he had come back from Hell. He hadn't seen Dean act like an older brother as of late. And it took Sam being critically injured for Dean to start acting like the older brother again. It took for them to be at the point of no return for Dean to start caring again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: Thank you for all the feedback on the last chapter! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. _

_Read and review please!!_

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

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Polaris

**Chapter 2**

Dean heard the door close as Bobby left to go get coffee. He hadn't meant to ignore the elder hunter like that, but after seeing Sam like this, after hearing about his injuries… it was all too surreal. This couldn't be happening, he kept telling himself. They hadn't signed up for this. It was supposed to be a _werewolf_ for god's sake, not a freaking cult of demons, two spirits, and the damned werewolf pack in the middle of a shadowy forest with dark cliffs and freaking caves. It wasn't supposed to be another episode of… Dean tried to force himself not to think of it. But he couldn't help it.

Dean had always remembered every single detail from _that_ night. He always had and for as long as he lived and for as long as it took for him to forget every single bit of humanity he had left, he always would. He remembered that it was 12:01 when it happened. He remembered the smell in the air. It stunk like sulfur, for there had been demons abound there. It had been muddy as a pig sty due to all the rain that had been falling and the rain that was still falling. Sam had been wearing his favorite brown Carrhart jacket, a white checkered shirt, dark jeans, and his brown boots. Dean remembered calling his brother's name and feeling that intense rush of joy when he heard his own name in response. He had studied his brother, taking in all the injuries; everything, from the dislocated shoulder, to the painful wince at every inhale that indicated broken ribs. Dean remembered the horror… the terror… the wordless emotion he felt when he saw Jake pick up the knife and drive it in Sam's back. The agonizing, indescribable pain he felt when he held his brother die. The hopelessness. The anger at the world. At the injustice of it all. He remembered every detail from that night two years ago.

Dr. Clapper had said that Sam had broken four ribs, dislocated his shoulder, a concussion, and a stab wound. Two years ago, Sam had received four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and a stab wound in almost the same manner as he had tonight. Dean had never believed in coincidences and tonight was no exception. Everything happened for a reason. The fact that Sam had been injured in exactly the same manner as he had the night that all hell broke loose the first time had happened for a reason.

"You are right," a grave voice said from behind Dean, interrupting the elder Winchester brother's musings.

Dean turned to find the familiar dark haired angel standing behind him. Feelings of hatred, of loss, of pain, of sadness welled up inside of him, filling him to brim. He longed to lash out at someone, something, to get rid of the pit inside he was feeling. And had felt ever since that night two years ago when he had held his dying baby brother in his arms.

"For once, I would love to say I'm glad to see you, Cass, I really would," Dean said hoarsely. Tears stung the back of his eyes as he turned back to Sam. "But every time I see you, I always end up hating myself and distrusting my brother. And after tonight, I don't—I can't deal with that."

"Dean," Castiel said softly.

"What do you want, Cass?" Dean demanded. His voice, though no louder than a whisper, carried an undercurrent of malice to it.

"I want to help you," Castiel said. "I want to help you save your brother, Dean. I want to help you save Sam."

"You're two years too late," Dean snarled angrily getting up from the chair he was sitting in. He stood on shaking legs as he turned to face the angel, anger welling up inside of him.

"Do you really believe that, Dean?" Castiel asked softly.

"Believe that Sam hasn't really been my brother since the night Jake killed him? That I haven't truly trusted him ever since I brought him back? That I haven't trusted him once since you brought me back?" Dean demanded his voice growing with self hatred. "That it isn't my fault that Sam's on this dark path? That I should have killed Jake while Sam was still alive and that none of this would have ever happened? Because yes, I do believe that! I believe that if Sam had never died, I would never have had to sell my soul, that the first seal would never have been broken. That Sam would still be the geeky, tall, shy, innocent guy that I knew better then anyone else and trusted with my own life. That Sam would be _my_ Sam, not this stranger I don't know. That none of this would have happened."

"You really think that by stopping Jake from killing Sam that night everything would be different?" Castiel questioned.

Dean wondered if there was an echo in the room. Wasn't that what he had just said?

"I know it would!" he snapped. "Because if Sam hadn't died, then I would have never made that damned deal. And Sam would have never had to have been alone those four months I was in Hell. He wouldn't have had to team up with that demon and never have been tempted to use his powers."

"Is that really what you think? That all of this—" Castiel used his arms to gesture to the hospital bed, but Dean knew he was talking about the threat of the apocalypse and everything that happened since Dean had been pulled out of Hell as well. "That all of this could have been stopped by your brother living that night?"

"Yes," Dean said bitterly as he looked back at Sam. He seemed so much more like the Sam Dean used to know when he was unconscious. The darkness and solidarity that plagued his features when he was awake was gone. In its place were pain lines and innocence.

"There are some things in life Dean that have to happen. And there are other things that are meant to happen. And there are some things that their happening just seems like the start of a chain reaction, when really, things were going in that direction all along," Castiel said.

Dean turned back to glare at the angel.

"Are you saying that Sam was supposed to die that night? That I was supposed to make that deal and start the freaking apocalypse because of it? That we were supposed to be complete strangers to each other?" he demanded.

"I'm not," Castiel said. "I'm saying that there are some things where changing them would have no impact on what would happen today."

"I don't believe that," Dean said.

"Do you?" Castiel questioned.

"I don't," Dean snarled. "I don't believe in destiny and all that crap. I don't believe that Sam had to die. What I do believe is that Sam's death that night and my decisions afterward are the reason why all of this is happening."

"What would you hope to accomplish by changing it?" Castiel asked.

"I would save my brother," Dean said through clenched teeth. "Isn't that why you brought me back? I mean outside of it was my fault that the first seal was broken, I know you brought me back to try to save Sam from giving in to his demonic crap."

"We brought you back for other reasons to," Castiel said gently. "But yes, those are the two main things."

"I wish that I could go back in time, stop this all from happening," Dean said turning back to Sam to hide the emotions on his face. He refused to cry in front of Castiel. "I feel as though that if I had been able to stop that bastard from killing Sam, then things would have turned out different."

"Do you really believe that?" Castiel asked.

"I do," Dean said. "I do more then any thing in the world."

Castiel vanished suddenly, just as the alarms started going wild on Sam's machine.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted pressing the call button.

Dr. Clapper raced in with a team of nurses and other hospital staff.

"What happened?" Dean demanded as Dr. Clapper took a reading on one of the machines.

"Shit, his blood pressure is dropping," the doctor said. "Someone get me some more AB positive in here fast and a dialysis machine. His kidneys are starting to go."

"Doc, what's happening?" Dean whispered afraid to know but at the same time, needing to know. Sam couldn't die. It wasn't acceptable.

"You need to leave. Now," Dr. Clapper said harshly. "We need room to work and you're just going to get in the way."

"No. Not until you tell me what's happening to Sam!" Dean yelled.

"I'll explain once I'm done saving your brother's life. Now leave!" Dr. Clapper all but yelled.

Dean was vaguely aware of someone taking hold of his arm and pulling him out of the room, but all he could see was Sam. The too pale face in the hospital bed, the closed eyes, the rain as it splashed in his face, the mud as it sank in to his knees… memories were starting to blur with reality. It was happening again, Dean realized. He was losing Sam. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Dean hated himself. If he had been more careful on the hunt, if he hadn't let them separate, none of this would have happened. If he hadn't been such a jackass about Sam using his powers. If he had been more of a brother the past couple of months. If he hadn't gone to Hell. If he hadn't made the deal. If he hadn't distracted Sam long enough for Jake to get the drop on him.

Dean was distantly aware of a splitting pain in his knuckles as his fist connected with the plastered walls. He heard more then felt someone pulling him away from the wall and pulling him outside. It was raining. Or maybe he was finally letting his tears fall. Or both.

"It's my fault," he all but sobbed. "It's my fault that Sam's dying. It's my fault Sam died. It's my fault that all of this is happening. It's my fault."

He heard Bobby saying something to him, but it didn't register. He was aware of someone touching his shoulder. The last thing he heard was: "Everything happens for a reason" before everything faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: I'm really pleased that you all are liking this story so much! Thank you so much for your kind words. This next chapter is for all of you. _

_Read and review please!!_

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

**Polaris**

**Chapter 3**

The radio in the Impala flickered. Dean blinked and tapped the radio, turning it off when it became full of static. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He glanced up at the brightly lit window of the small trailer diner that was very visible despite the pouring rain and his blood froze. It was empty. Sam wasn't in there.

He was halfway out of the car before he was fully aware of what he was doing. And then, everything came rushing back to him. Memories of the hunt gone wrong in the forest. Memories of Sam being attacked by the demons. Memories of Hell. Memories of the deal, the year following it. Memories of what was about to happen. And the latter filled Dean with wordless, mind numbing horror. And hope as he remembered the conversation he had with Castiel. He could change things this time. He knew what was going to happen, where it was going to happen, and when it was going to happen. He didn't care how he got there, though he had a feeling Castiel had something to do with it (the bastard, he thought darkly), but he was going to change things. And he would start with saving Sam from Jake.

With a start, Dean knew he could save other hunters as well, not just Sam. Like the hunters that were in the Road House when the demons burned it down. He could save them as well as Sam.

He checked the clock. It was 6:00. He had roughly eighteen hours to get to Cold Oak and stop Jake from killing Sam and preventing everything from happening. He was going to need help.

Dean started the Impala as he took out his cell phone and dialed Bobby's number. He lingered longer then necessary on Sam's name, just staring at it. It hit him all over again just out of touch the two had gotten since they had been reunited. Dean wasn't about to let that happen all over again.

"Singer," the familiar gruff voice said on the other end of the line. Dean was startled; Bobby sounded different. He sounded less… old, if that were possible. He didn't sound nearly as disconsolate as he had before Sam had died and Dean had sold his soul and went to Hell.

"Bobby, it's me. I need your help," Dean said. "Sam's missing. But I know where he is and am going after him. I need you to go to Ash for me. Tell him that he is in danger and that he needs to get out of the Road House as fast as he can."

"Dean, what's going on? Where's Sam? Is he okay? Did he have another vision?" Bobby asked. He sounded worried and concerned and above all else, the same way Dean's father would have sounded if he had been alive. Dean had never realized how much of a father figure Bobby had become until then.

"Look, I wish I had time to explain this to you, but I can't. Just go to the Road House and tell Ash what I told you. Meet me back at your place tomorrow," Dean said. "You won't believe me, but I'll try to explain everything then. Just… just trust me on this, all right?"

"Damn it boy, that's not good enough. I need to know what's going on," Bobby snapped. Dean thought about it for a moment, before quickly snapping his phone shut. With luck, Bobby would do as he asked and Ash wouldn't die. Dean knew that he could use Ash in the next few months if he didn't succeed in what he was trying to do.

With a heavy sigh, Dean pushed the gas pedal down even further.

Eighteen hours he thought. Eighteen hours and I can stop the end of the world.

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Rain was falling steadily from the sky as Dean parked the Impala in front of an all too familiar log that had fallen across the dirt road that led into Cold Oak, South Dakota. With his panic levels rising that he was already too late, Dean grabbed his pearl handled gun, his knife, and flashlight.

He glanced at his watch briefly. It read 11:30. Thirty-one minutes until Sam's death. Even though Dean knew it was supposedly going to happen, he couldn't bear the thought. Not of losing this Sam. The one that was shy, innocent, tall, gangly, geeky, and was absolutely terrified of his visions that had been caused by demon blood all along.

"I will not yell his name and distract him like last time," Dean chanted to himself. He was getting a second chance at this. He would not screw it up.

Dean trekked up the all too familiar path that led to Cold Oak. It was scary how much he actually remembered from that night. Or rather, this night, two years ago in present time.

It went against every instinct he had not to call out for Sam. He had to keep biting his lip to stop himself.

Finally, Dean made it to the town. It was 12:58. Three minutes. He spotted Jake lying on the ground, feigning unconsciousness, and Sam standing over him with a pipe raised with a torn look in his eyes. Dean was surprised at how easy it was to read his younger brother. His face was like an open book, more familiar to Dean then his own. There was resentment and pain battling with compassion in those familiar brown eyes that Dean had been missing these past couple of months in present time.

"You're not worth it," Sam muttered dropping the pipe. He picked up the knife from where it lay on the ground and shoved it into his pocket.

"Sammy," Dean breathed. This was his Sam. The Sam that would hesitate before killing anything that wasn't supernatural. The Sam that Dean had been trying so hard to find as of late. The Sam that Dean went to Hell for.

Dean saw Jake stir and opened his mouth to warn Sam, but the young hunter was ready. He kicked Jake hard in the ribs, with a malice that made Dean wince. The youngest Winchester leaned down and pulled Jake up to meet him with his right arm. Dean could just make out the words that his brother said.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said with a shake of his head. "God knows you deserve it, but doing it would play right into the demon's hands. And I'm not going to let him win."

"I meant it when I said I like you man," Jake said. "And I don't want to have to do this, but face it, you're not strong enough. You never will be."

Sam's face was puzzled for the brief second it took for Jake to punch him hard and send him flying. Dean fired two quick rounds before Jake had the chance to get to his feet.

"Dean?" Sam whispered. Dean heard the vulnerability in that one word. The hope and sheer relief that his big brother had found him; the belief that was everything was going to be okay because Dean was there. And in that moment, Dean knew everything was going to be okay. And then his brother passed out.

"Sam!" Dean shouted as he ran forward. Fears started seeping into his mind. Maybe he had been wrong after all. Maybe it wasn't just the knife wound that killed Sam. Maybe Sam was dying after all.

Those thoughts were pushed out of his mind the minutes he knelt down to his unconscious (he is not dead, Dean told himself) brother and felt the pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief and then mentally berated himself for being so apprehensive about it in the first place. Sam was going to be fine. It was Dean's job to make sure of it.

Dean couldn't recall how exactly he had pulled his brother from the ground and made it into one of the abandoned houses the last time he had to do this. He had been more than a little preoccupied with thoughts such as my brother is dead and Sammy is never coming back to really be thinking about what he was doing.

"Now would be a really good time to wake up Sammy," he muttered as he dragged Sam as gently as he could toward the nearest house. "Cause I have to say, you're heavy."

There was no response from Sam, but the steady heartbeat underneath Dean's fingers relieved any concerns that Sam was slipping away from him.

Ten minutes later, Dean had managed to get Sam into one of the houses and on one of the torn beds in the house. He refused to think of the last time Sam had been in a room similar to this. There would be no Winchesters dying tonight. Or ever.

"D-n?"

Dean had turned to grab the medical kit out of the duffel bag he had been carrying when he had found his brother when Sam started waking up.

"Hey, take it easy," Dean cautioned as Sam attempted to get off the bed and winced in the effort. "You have a couple of broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder."

"M' head hurts," Sam said staring at Dean in confusion. "How did I get in here? How did you find me? Where's Jake?"

"Jake… is dead," Dean said figuring it was best to just tell Sam the truth.

"Did I…?" Sam trailed off looking guilty.

"No," Dean said. He put a hand on Sam's injured shoulder mentally wincing when he felt just how out of place this was. This is going to hurt, he thought.

"Oh," Sam said absently rubbing at his temple. Dean wondered what that was about… and then remembered that Sam was prone to visions. And old Yellow Eyes wasn't dead yet.

That's the last thing we need, Dean thought remembering how bad some of the visions could get. He also remembered that Yellow Eyes was the most powerful demon they had encountered; and that included Lilith, Alistair, and all the others they had run into after they had killed him.

Dean set to work binding Sam's ribs, apologizing for all the winces Sam gave. They kept up a steady conversation through out it—Sam was describing to Dean what had happened and Dean making comments through out and making sure his brother was okay. To Dean, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

"I've got to reset your shoulder, okay?" Dean asked as he taped the last bandage around Sam's ribs.

"Just do it," Sam said through gritted teeth as he reached with his good arm to the half-empty bottle of whiskey that sat on the small table. Dean had set it there earlier and both had been taking swigs from it on occasion.

"On three," Dean said bracing his arms on Sam's shoulder. He hoped he could do this correctly the first time and wouldn't have to reset it later.

"Okay," Sam bit out as he took a huge swallow of the amber liquid in the bottle.

"One. Two," Dean counted off before he slid the joint back into place with a gentle click on the bone's part and a yell of pain on Sam's.

"I knew you were going to do that," Sam muttered as he took a few deep breaths. His face was contorted with pain and Dean felt guilty for putting it there, but he also felt relieved. Sam in his time wouldn't have let a look like that cross his face. This was his Sam. Not some complete stranger with a familiar-ish face.

"Here," Dean said handing Sam some Tylenol. "It's all I can give you for now. You can get the strong stuff when we get to Bobby's."

"Okay," Sam said wincing as he stood up. Dean placed a steadying hand on his good shoulder.

"Take it easy, all right?" he asked. "I don't need you dy- I don't need you hurting yourself any more."

"I can't do that, Dean," Sam said stubbornly. "The yellow eyed demon is going to try to get me to do something for him… he wants me to lead some demonic army."

"Well, you're not going to," Dean said. "As long as I'm around, nothing ain't ever going to happen to you. Ever."

Sam shook his head.

"There are some things you're not going to be able to protect me from," he said. "And this is one of them."

"Damn it, Sammy," Dean said as he threw the first aid kit back into the duffel bag. "Do you have a death wish?"

"No, but Dean, I know the yellow-eyed demon. He's going to use you to get me to do what he wants. And I can't put you in the middle of that!"

"We're in this together, Sam," Dean said bluntly. He didn't want to have a fight. Not now. Not when he just got his brother back. "We're either all in or we're all out. Got that?"

He had become too accustomed to the Sam that would argue everything he said with a somewhat logical argument that always led to a huge fight and awkward silences. Dean had forgotten that Sam used to do everything he asked back before he had died.

"Okay," Sam muttered. He had his patented bitch face on; one Dean couldn't help but grin at.

"You hungry?" he asked. When Sam nodded, he said "I'm starving. Let's go eat and then get to Bobby's. You up for it?"

"Yeah," Sam said taking a few hesitant steps forward. A look of satisfaction crossed his face when the pain didn't register.

Slowly, they made their way to the Impala. Dean had to help Sam a couple of times because of his injuries. He couldn't help but feel content every time he did it, though he knew it meant that Sam was in a world of pain. He cared, but he was more than happy to have Sam back to being Sam again.

Dean made sure to drive carefully and to avoid the crossroads where he had made the original deal that had changed so much in their life. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing that place on top of everything else.

Sam was passed out in the passenger's seat, snoring softly as Dean turned on to the interstate and started driving toward the nearest town. Dean smiled at the sight; it had been forever since he had seen his brother actually sleep.

He turned on the radio and turned it down, humming along to All Right Now by Free. There was still a ton of work to do, like kill Yellow Eyes, but things were going to be all right.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: This is the quiet lull in between the two most action packed scenes in the entire story. It's kinda short, but it has a lot of brotherly love, so I hope you enjoy!_

_Read and review please!!_

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

**Polaris**

**Chapter 4**

The Road House, despite Dean's best efforts, had been burnt to the ground. There had been no survivors. Bobby had gotten to the small rendezvous for hunters too late, after spending most of the day trying to contact Ash to warn them.

Ellen had lived, bringing the map of the graveyard. Dean wasn't sure what was supposed to happen anymore, now that Jake was dead and Sam was alive. Sam hadn't been exactly helpful, either. He had passed out on Bobby's couch the moment they had gotten there, completely exhausted from the events of the past two days.

Dean stood alone in the massive living room, pretending to be studying the bookcase, but really watching Sam. He still couldn't believe that he was back in this time. The time he often longed for when he was looking at the Sam back in his own time, where Sam would at least tell him what he was doing before he went and did it, where Sam would tell Dean what was bothering him. Being here made Dean realize just how much he had missed his brother.

"Dude, take a picture, it will last longer," came the sleepy grumble from the couch as Sam woke up and stretched. Dean noted the wince as his brother moved his left shoulder and instantly grew worried. Maybe there had been something he had missed. Maybe Sam was going to die after all.

"Dean, seriously man, are you okay?" Sam asked blinking owlishly at him. The youngest Winchester still looked exhausted.

"I'm fine," Dean said instantly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam said with a yawn. "Where're Bobby and Ellen?"

"I think they went to see if they could salvage anything from the Road House. Why, do you need anything?"

Sam glanced out the window anxiously, making Dean's uneasiness grow. There was something about the look in his younger brother's eyes that made Dean worried about what had happened in Sam's head while he had slept.

"I, uh, I had this dream," Sam said as he sat up and leaned back against the couch. The dark circles underneath his eyes were really pronounced. Dean felt for him, wishing there was something he could do.

"Oh?" Dean asked interest spiking. Dream as in _dream_ or as in vision? But, Dean remembered, Sam's visions hadn't taken the form of dreams in a long time.

"It was about the yellow eyed demon," Sam said hesitantly. He looked any where but at Dean. It had been bad, Dean deduced.

"And?" he prompted. He didn't want to let on to just how much this freaked the hell out of him. Sam was already anxious enough about this whole thing.

"He wants me to do something for him," Sam said still looking any where but at Dean.

Dean already knew what. He remembered every single detail of _that _day and the weeks after it. But more importantly, he remembered the giant devil's trap in the southern end of Wyoming that was made out of railroad ties, created by Samuel Colt in the 1860s. He remembered that Jake had been the one to get the mysterious Colt back from the Yellow Eyed demon and open the devil's gate in Wyoming.

"What?" Dean asked trying not to sound too annoyed. He wasn't supposed to know about the plan. He wasn't supposed to know anything that Sam didn't know.

"He told me that he wanted me to open a gate in Wyoming," Sam said looking bemusedly at Dean. "Using the Colt. It was weird. Like he didn't know that I knew about the gun and what it would do. And then he told me that all I had to do was to open the door that was in the cemetery and he would never bother us again."

"And you believed him?" Dean asked incredulously. He had thought this version of Sam was supposed to be the smart one. The one that remembered that he had gone to Stanford and actually acted like it.

"No!" Sam protested angrily. "I'm not an idiot, Dean. I said there was no way in Hell that was going to happen. Not after what he did to Mom. Not after what he did to Jess."

Jess. The one thing in the world outside of Dean that actually made this version of Sam tick emotionally. Dean had forgotten about how messed up Sam had been over that, even years later. He wondered in the back of his mind if the Sam he knew in his own time still had feelings for Jess.

"Then what's the matter, Sammy? If you said no, then what's up?" Dean asked as his brother looked away from him again. There was a look of anguish in his eyes, one that didn't go without notice on Dean's part. There was something still bothering him. Dean figured out what it was just as Sam opened his mouth.

"He threatened to kill you," Sam said softly. "If I didn't go along with his plans he said he would kill you and Bobby the same way he killed Mom and Jess in front of me."

Sam looked like he was going to say something else, but decided against it. Dean had a feeling he knew what his brother was going to say.

"Don't worry about us, Sam," Dean said. "We can handle the yellow eyed demon. And we're going to do it together."

"I can't," Sam said shaking his head. "You don't seem to get it. He's going to _kill_ you the same way he murdered _Mom_! Do you not get that?"

"I do Sam," Dean assured him. "But I also know that he can't kill us if he's dead."

Sam looked up at Dean, an emotion lingering close to hope in his wide brown eyes. His long hair hung in front of them slightly, giving him the look of a five-year-old whose father had just told him he could get ice cream every day after school. Dean nearly smiled at the look.

"Sam, Dean! We brought back food!" Bobby yelled as the front door to the house slammed shut, successfully breaking the brotherly moment between Sam and Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: This is probably the shortest chapter in the entire story. It was originally longer, but then I realized that I needed to do some much needed editing to the latter half of this, so this ended up being chapter 5 and I shall post chapter 6 tomorrow. Enjoy!!_

_Author's Note 2: Thanks to all the wonderful people who have read and reviewed this story. I am really surprised at the interest in this story. So thank you so much and I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I do._

_Author's Note 3: There may seem to be a huge mistake in this chapter, but believe me, it's not. If you read carefully, you will realize that everything in this chapter can actually happen according to what goes on in the series. Just so you know... I am not completely crazy. Just mostly crazy._

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

**Polaris**

**Chapter 5**

It was cold. Dean wondered if it had always been that cold and he didn't remember it or things were changing now that Sam had lived. Either way, it was freaking cold. And Sam was missing for the second time in forty-eight hours. Well, not really missing, but he wasn't in Dean's line of sight and that was cause for alarm along with the facts that Bobby was trying to close the devil's gate, Ellen was dead, and Dean was having issues breathing properly through the searing pain in his chest.

Things had been going relatively well in Dean's opinion, especially compared to the last time he had been through this event. Bobby, Ellen, Sam, and Dean had all gotten to the cowboy cemetery in southern Wyoming, like Dean had suggested so that they could 'check it out'. They had found the Colt lying next to the devil's gate. Dean started getting suspicious at that point. Dean's suspicions grew when Sam disappeared from his side and he couldn't find the gun he kept in the waist band of his pocket. Bobby tripped over something and that's when everything went to Hell. Literally.

Ellen pulled a gun out of her jacket pocket and pointed it at Dean. Dean had been so shocked that he didn't even notice Sam knock her out of the way just as the woman pulled the trigger. Dean was thrown backward by the force of the bullet entering his stomach.

"Dean!" Sam had yelled in anguish.

Ellen had shoved Sam out of the way, grabbed the Colt from the ground and put it in the slot.

"No!" Dean had yelled struggling to get back to his feet. A wave of pain had consumed him, forcing him to stay put.

Ellen's eyes shone gold as the devil's gate opened and demons and spirits from Hell poured out on to the world. Dean was thrown backward again, this time by a demonic power, and connected with a tree.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," Ellen… the yellow eyed demon… had said with a smirk. "How nice of you to kill Jake for Sammy! I have to say, I wasn't expecting that one. I really thought Jake was going to win. And now, I have Sam and you're never going to see your brother again. So thank you, Dean. Really."

"You bastard," Dean gasped wincing as he strained against the demonic force.

"No, that would be you, Dean. You have no father, no mother, and now, you aren't going to have a brother," the demon said.

"Hey!" Sam yelled from behind the demon.

Dean froze as he saw Sam aim the Colt at Ellen's head. The yellow-eyed demon possessing her grinned.

"You wouldn't kill me," the demon said. "You're not that strong."

"Sammy, just do it," Dean whispered closing his eyes as another wave of pain coursed through him. "Ellen wouldn't want this."

"Yeah, Sammy," the demon taunted. "Kill me."

Sam's hand shook. The moments stretched on endlessly as Dean's stomach continued to bleed and Bobby struggled to close the door. The wind screamed around them as demons and spirits of Hell walked the earth for the first time in hundreds of years.

"Sammy, please," Dean croaked. "Just do it. It's the only way to end this."

Sam shot a helpless glance at Dean. He was hesitating because it was a familiar person. It was Ellen. Or was it because he was remembering that night back in Salvation where he had tried to kill the yellow eyed demon and end this then and had missed… and if he missed this time, he would end up killing Dean.

"You won't miss," Dean said through clenched teeth. He was losing too much blood and he knew it. He was going to die. He couldn't move his hands to put pressure on the wound and he was bleeding out.

Dean was beginning to get black spots in his vision. He heard the gun go off and a sharp, surprised scream from Ellen. The demonic force pinning him to the tree was gone. Without it holding him up, Dean slid to the ground with a grunt, sending black stars over his vision.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. It was a scared shout, one that reminded Dean a lot of the one he had given when he saw Sam being stabbed in the back.

"M'okay," Dean murmured his eyes closing involuntarily. He forced them open again as Sam dropped to his knees in front of him.

"Dean?" Sam whispered. He spotted the bullet wound and paled for a moment, before swallowing. "You're going to be okay, all right? You're going to be okay, Dean."

The irony wasn't lost on Dean. Was this his destiny? To die in the place of his brother? It wasn't a bad way to die, he thought. If it was his time to go, then so be it. At least he wasn't heading for Hell this time around. Or maybe he was.

"Damn it, Dean. Open your eyes!" Sam shouted in his ear.

Dean struggled to do what he was told, not realizing that he had closed his eyes. He noticed that the wind had stopped; Bobby must have closed the devil's gate.

"Keep. Fighting. Love. You. Sammy," Dean slurred taking a deep breath and wincing. He was suddenly warm and comfortable. He wrenched his eyes open and found himself staring at Sam's shoulder.

"Bobby!" Sam yelled in a frantic voice. His voice sounded so far away, even though he was holding Dean as close as he dared.

Dean was drifting. He knew that something was going on above him, but he couldn't bring himself to react.

"_Dean_!" was the last thing he heard before he drifted off into an everlasting sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: This chapter is almost as short as the last one and as a result, the emotions are kind of rushed. I'm sorry about that. I promise the next chapter will be longer._

_Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story and put it on story alert. I am really glad that you guys are enjoying this so much. Feel free to check out some of my other Supernatural stories if you want to. _

_This is the last chapter spent in the alternate timeline. Just thought I'd give you a heads up. The next chapter we go back to real time._

_Also... I never actually decided where in season four this ended up. It could be really anywhere after Sam starts drinking demon blood and tells Dean about it--so pretty much in the last four episodes or during season 5. It's really not that important to the story, though. I don't give away any spoilers except for Sam's addiction to demon blood, which pretty much everyone knows about._

_Okay... sorry that I'm rambling. I know you guys really want to read the chapter. So read and enjoy. Reviews are welcome!! _

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

**Polaris**

**Chapter 6**

Or so he thought. Dean woke with a start and a gasp in a familiar room, by himself. He was at Bobby's house, though how he got there from the graveyard, he had no idea. Dean moved to get off the bed when a blinding pain in his lower ribs stopped him in his tracks.

He lifted his shirt, wondering what had happened. There was a small white scar just below his ribcage, right where the bullet had gone in. Dean tried moving again, wincing when the pain returned, though it wasn't as bad as it was the first time. It was more bearable.

"Dean?"

At the sound of Sam's exhausted, pained whisper coming from the doorway, Dean turned and dropped his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw how awful Sam looked. His baby brother was as pale as a ghost, with dark circles underneath red rimmed, blood-shot eyes. His shaggy brown hair was unkempt and oily, showing nights without showering. He was wearing the same jacket as he had been when Dean had last seen him in that was rumpled and worse for wear.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked his big brother instincts kicking in. Something wasn't right here. The way Sam was avoiding his eyes… the way Sam looked… Sam was hiding something. _But what_ Dean thought.

"I should be asking you that," Sam attempted to retort. It fell flat. "You were the one who lost 30% of his blood, not me."

A shadow crossed those familiar brown eyes, one of doubt. Suspicion flared inside of Dean. What was going on?

"What happened?" Dean asked yawning. He was suddenly tired, as if he hadn't slept in a month.

"You were hurt pretty badly," Sam said looking anywhere but at Dean. "Bobby had a hell of a time patching you up. You've been out of it for a few days."

The words struck a trigger in Dean's exhausted mind. They were the exact same words, or close enough, to the ones Dean had told Sam the night he was brought back with the deal.

_No,_ Dean told himself fiercely. _Sam's not that stupid. There's no way he would have made a deal_. _Would he?_

"You look like hell, Sammy," Dean said.

"You nearly died, Dean," Sam snapped. "Quit focusing on me and focus on yourself for once."

Dean was taken aback by the harshness in his brother's voice. And then he saw Sam's face.

"I died, didn't I?" Dean whispered. He couldn't believe it. There was no way that the positions from _that night_ had been reversed and Sam was the one going to Hell. No. That wasn't possible. NO!

"No!" Sam protested but his face gave him away. Dean wondered if Sam had the same thoughts of anger and horror going through him that night when he found out that Dean had made a deal for him. And was going to _Hell_.

"How long did you get?"

This conversation was too scary. Dean couldn't be facing life without his brother. Not again. Coming back here had been a mistake, he realized.

"Dean-."

"How long?" Dean demanded fiercely, pain marring his voice. He already knew the answer, but he was going to make Sam say it anyway.

"One year," Sam said glancing away.

"You shouldn't have done that," Dean said shaking his head.

"Dean," Sam whispered.

"No! You should have just let me die. You shouldn't have made that damn deal. You're going to go to _Hell_ Sam. Hell! Do you realize what that means? The torture you're going to go through?" Dean demanded. He couldn't stop himself. He wanted it to get through to Sam just how dumb of a choice he had made.

Dean had never regretted going to Hell for Sam. Never once in the time had he been there or the time he had gotten back. At least, he didn't regret bringing Sam back. He regretted the fact that he left his brother alone without any one to watch his back. He regretted the choices Sam had made when Dean had been in Hell. But there was nothing he could do about that.

"I couldn't have you dead, Dean," Sam whispered. "You're my brother. I couldn't just let you die."

"Oh yes you could!" Dean shouted. "You should have! I'm not worth going to Hell over!"

"Why the hell not?" Sam shouted back. "You would have done it for me!"

_I have done it for you_.

"No I wouldn't have!"

_I started the … oh no! No. NO! _

Sam was going to be the one who broke the first seal while in Hell. He was the one who was going to be the start of the apocalypse. And Dean couldn't let that happen. It was one thing for him to start it. He could handle it. He was strong enough. He had been trained for it his entire life. But Sammy? Sam was his geeky, gentle brother. He was the brother that everyone fell in love with. He couldn't be the start of the apocalypse. That would be like Tweety Bird starting the apocalypse. It was unthinkable.

"It's too late, Dean! I can't go back on the deal or you drop dead!"

"Don't you ever say it's too late!" Dean shouted. "I'm going to get you out of this if it's the last thing I do. You're not going to Hell!"

"Dean…"

"NO!"


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title--it belongs to Jimmy Eat World._

_Author's Note: This may or may not be the final chapter... I haven't decided yet. It really depends on what you guys want. I can always add on an epilogue if you want one, but it probably won't be up until some time next week. Or, I could just end it here. I'll let you guys decide._

_Also, I make a small reference to Lost in here. Sorry--I had just watched that particular episode when I wrote this chapter. Man, that was a long time ago. Anyway, if you don't get it, don't worry about it. I don't know why I threw it in there, but I didn't want to take it out. _

_I hope you have all enjoyed the journey that Dean has gone through and all the realizations he has come to. I have enjoyed writing it. _

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

**Polaris**

**Chapter 7**

"NO!" Dean shouted as Sam was slammed up against the cave wall by the giant werewolf and someone slid a knife into his stomach. It was pulled out with a sickening _squelch_ and Sam let out a whimper of pain.

Two of the four people that were possessed with demons looked toward him and he realized half a second too late that he was supposed to be in hiding. But how the hell was he supposed to stay quiet with Sam going to Hell?

Wait. Sam wasn't going to Hell. _Sam wasn't going to Hell_. Dean was back in his own time. The time with the stranger impersonating his brother… or maybe it really was his brother. Maybe Sam was searching for the old Dean as much as Dean was searching for the old Sam. The realization hit him suddenly. It was still his Sam, just tougher.

The two demons who had noticed him were now coming toward him. The other two were dealing with Sam, who even with a knife wound was putting up a huge fight.

"Watch out Dean!" Sam yelled as he was once again thrown up against the cave wall by the werewolf.

Dean barely had time to glance up before a knife sailed out of the blue and embedded itself in the cave wall next to Dean's head.

"Hang on, Sam!" Dean yelled as he landed a punch on the nose of a demon that was attacking him. He pulled out his gun loaded with silver bullets and shot it, knowing it wouldn't work. He was stunned when the bullet connected with the demon and sent the person crashing to the ground, dead. Black smoke surrounded the body and disappeared through the cave entrance, leaving three more possessed people in the cave.

Dean heard Sam groan in pain as he ducked and aimed for the werewolf pinning his brother to the wall. Dean knew he couldn't miss or he would risk killing Sam. The werewolf paused for a brief second and Dean took his chance, tightening his finger on the trigger and let the bullet fly.

The demons fled when the werewolf hit the ground, dead. They had obviously been counting on the wolf to keep Sam distracted while they slowly killed him. Without the wolf and even injured, Sam was still a formidable opponent. Dean felt a sudden burst of pride as he realized it. They were scared of his brother because of the things he could do.

"Dean?"

Sam's injured voice broke Dean out of his thoughts. He turned to his brother, his heart sinking as he laid eyes on him. Blood was everywhere, pouring steadily from the knife wound in his stomach. He was favoring his left side, showing all the signs of broken ribs. And his left shoulder hung lower then his left one. It was dislocated.

"It's going to be okay, Sam," he said softly as he pulled his brother into his arms. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're going to be okay."

* * *

Dean opened his eyes again and found himself in a hospital bed, surrounded by blinking machines. A familiar pair of blue eyes met his and Dean didn't feel the usual intense hatred as he saw them.

"For once, I can say I'm glad to see you, Cass," Dean croaked wincing as the effort tore at his vocal chords. "What happened?"

"You went into shock," Castiel said calmly. "You broke your wrist and had a concussion."

Dean vaguely remembered stumbling down a rocky hillside and using his hand as a brace to stop his fall in a vain attempt to get to Sam. Sam had been taken into the forest near the beginning of the hunt by the werewolf they had been hunting to that cave where they had met the demons.

"Sam?" Dean asked bolting upright as he remembered the flat-lining heart machine. Fear shot through him. He couldn't lose his Sam. Not again. Not for a third time.

"Saumel is going to be just fine," Castiel said. "The knife wound finally stopped bleeding and the doctors were able to perform the necessary surgery needed to save your brother's life."

_He's lying_, Dean realized. The angel had healed Sam to the point where he wasn't in danger of dying.

"Thanks," Dean said quietly. "You didn't have to do what you did. But thanks."

"I meant what I said Dean when I said that you were brought back to save your brother," the angel said. "I just wanted to give you a fighting chance. You can't save him if he's dead. And going to Hell won't help anyone at this point."

"I understand what you meant about all of it now," Dean said meaning the whole Sam dying bit. He realized now that saving Sam from Jake would have never solved anything. A Winchester still would have died that night and another Winchester would have ended up in Hell. Dean, for once, was grateful for the forty years he spent in Hell. He was okay with it being him that started the apocalypse. As long as it wasn't his brother, then it was okay.

"Then my mission here is complete," the angel said with a nod of his head. "You and your brother have a lot of things you need to discuss before rejoining this war."

Dean nodded. Even if it meant the infamous, dreaded chick-flick moments, he was going to have a long talk with Sam about everything that had happened since he had gone to Hell.

The angel disappeared.

"Dean?" Bobby asked poking his head in the door. "The doctor said you were awake."

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said with a small smile. "Is Sam okay?"

"He woke up about an hour ago," Bobby said with relief visible in his eyes. "He's going to be just fine."

"Thank god," Dean said and meaning it both literally and figuratively.

* * *

Some things were meant to happen. Castiel had said that all roads would lead to the same destination. Despite what Daniel Faraday said, the constants would always remain just that, despite what the variables did to influence them. Destiny wasn't just a bunch of hocus pocus, despite what Dean wanted so badly to believe.

Sam was meant to die. Dean was meant to go to Hell to start the Apocalypse. The two of them together were meant to stop Lucifer together. It was the way things were meant to be. It was the Winchesters' destiny. Granted, it wouldn't be easy and it would more than likely result in someone getting hurt, but they were supposed to do it. The two of them. Together. No demons, no family friends, just Sam and Dean the way their father had taught them.

Looking at Sam's sleeping form in the hospital bed from the hospital chair where Dean sat; he realized the truth in his thoughts. He also felt ashamed of himself for not realizing it sooner. Sam, despite all the things he had done when Dean had gone to Hell, was still the Sam from two years ago; the Sam Dean had died to save. He was just a little tougher then he was before, less likely to get caught by demons or any other supernatural entity that was out to get them. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing in Dean's mind. His little brother could look out for himself, but that didn't mean he wasn't still the same Sam as before.

It was sad that it took Sam nearly dying for Dean to realize that. He should have known it all along; he should have had more faith in his brother. Things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand if he had. But it was too late to do anything about that now. Dean had made his mistakes, realized them, and now it was time for him to correct them. He knew Sam would be more than willing to cooperate—he missed Dean almost as much as Dean missed him. Dean was certain of that fact. All that was missing now was his brother, who was currently snoring away, completely unaware of what was going on around him. Dean bet that he could play ACDC full blast from the Impala's stereo right here in the room and Sam wouldn't stir. But that was okay—Sam was alive. They would have plenty of time to rectify their mistakes.

* * *

_Until next chapter or the next story,_

_~Scott Winchester, 22 3_


	8. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters._

_Author's Note: I'm not extremely pleased to the end of this, because it's really sudden, but it's the best that I could do. The original version of this chapter was three times this length and had a much better ending, but alas, as nice as technology is, it does tend to crash in the middle of huge thunderstorms that cut all your power and don't do auto-recovery. And then you realize that you were an idiot and forgot to hit CTRL-S to save it before that happened and therefore lost the entire thing. Sigh. Oh well. This is a decent epilogue for the most part, outside of the really sudden end. _

_Thank you all for reading and leaving such kind reviews. I am glad that I decided to post this story after all. You guys make me feel so happy!_

_For more Hurt!Sam and Angst!Dean, check out _You Found Me_. It's pretty much my version of season 5 of SN, so you guys might enjoy it. There will be more Sam in that story then there was in this one. _

_One mroe thing... this chapter is told from Sam's POV. It's pretty much his recollection of what happened throughout the entire story, so it's going to be the longest chapter (I think this one hit seven pages...) in the story. _

_Summary: A hunt goes wrong, landing both Winchesters in the hospital, one within an inch of death, the other regretting all the choices he has made. With help from an angel, Dean gets to see what would have happened if Jake hadn't killed Sam all those years ago in Cold Oak. _

Sam knew he was fighting a losing battle. The blood seeping from the wounds on his face and the mind-numbing pain in his chest were proof to that statement. He wasn't going to win this fight. But that didn't mean he wasn't going down quietly. No, there was no way that he was dying without taking a couple of demons with him.

"NO!" he heard Dean yell.

_Is he trying to get killed?_ Sam thought angrily. The anger quickly turned into stunned disbelief as he felt an excruciating pain in his gut. He looked down, feeling slightly stupid as he watched the blood begin to pour out of the gash in his stomach. It burned like Hell and made him slightly dizzy when he tried to move, but Sam was a master of pain. He sucked in his breath and managed to send one of the demons holding him captive sprawling to the ground.

A glint of silver caught Sam's eye as he miraculously managed to break free of his captors. His breath caught in his throat as he saw where the demon was aiming.

"Watch out, Dean!" he shouted.

His cry of warning cost him the freedom he had spent so much precious energy trying to gain. He was instantly pinned against the cave wall again at the mercy of an angered werewolf and a demon.

"Hang on, Sam!" Dean yelled in the distance.

Sam let out a mental sigh of relief, one that quickly vanished as there was a ripping sensation in his arm followed by a sharp pain in his shoulder. He groaned as black spots started to cover his vision. He heard Dean cock the gun and prayed that that meant the pain would end soon. Oddly enough, it did. The werewolf pinning him to the wall fell to the ground, dead as a doornail. The remaining demon fled from the cave, obviously terrified of Sam. In any other circumstances, Sam might have managed a chuckle.

Sam blinked blood out of his eyes, searching for his brother. He found Dean's familiar shape standing frozen in the middle of the cave, looking at the cave entrance with an expression of disbelief.

Sam couldn't hold on much longer. He was already beginning to black out. He needed Dean, even after everything he said otherwise recently. He needed his brother to just be his brother again.

"Dean," he managed to say.

Dean turned to him. And in the instant his green eyes met with Sam's own, Sam felt safe.

He was distantly aware of Dean murmuring something to him and strong, warm arms pulling him closer, but the last thing he truly remembered was the smell of the leather jacket that Dean always wore and the sound of Dean's soothing voice. Then, the blackness he had been fighting so hard against engulfed him.

* * *

"D-n?"

Panic filled him as he called out for Dean and there was no reply. Dean always answered him. Where was Dean?

"Relax, Sam," a soothing voice said from somewhere above him.

Sam didn't—it wasn't the voice he needed to hear. He continued to struggle against the overwhelming blackness.

Warmth spread over him as an unfamiliar hand took his own. The pain that had been there was suddenly gone. Sam lost all consciousness again.

* * *

"De-?"

Sam fought back to consciousness again, this time managing to open his eyes. He was greeted with blurred images and bright lights. Stabs of disappointment and fear shot through him at equal measures. There was someone on the edge of his bed, but it wasn't Dean.

"He's okay, son," the familiar voice said. It was Bobby. "He's just getting some rest in the next room."

Sam blinked, trying to bring the room into focus. He only succeeded in giving himself a headache with the blinding lights and the pain that made itself known the longer he was conscious.

"Hurts," he mumbled.

Bobby said something about nurses and morphine, but Sam didn't catch any of it as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Sam couldn't make his mouth work, nor could he open his eyes. He was only vaguely aware of what was going on around him. It sounded as though there were two people in the room, discussing him. One sounded grim, the other surprised. Sam felt the familiar surge of letdown when he realized neither voice belonged to his brother. He was just about to drift back to sleep when a phrase caught his attention.

"I have no idea how the Hell he made it," the first voice said. "That knife wound should have killed him."

"It's a damn miracle, I'd say," the second person said. "I think we should just leave it at that."

Sam's blood went cold. _Oh no,_ he thought. _This is not happening again_. But before he could fully wake up, sleep overwhelmed him once more.

The room was dark when Sam finally fought his way back to consciousness. The only light came from the flickering television set that illuminated a person stretched out uncomfortably on one of the plastic hospital chairs beside his bedside. Sam recognized the person instantly.

* * *

"D-n?"

He hated the fact that he could barely get his brother's name out. He wondered if Dean heard that pathetic whimper—Sam hardly heard it. But then, this was Dean he was asking for. Dean always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Sam.

"Hey," Dean said conversationally. There was a low curse followed by a gentle click and the television was shut off, sending Sam into darkness once again. But this was a darkness he wasn't afraid of because Dean was there. Dean could help him fight it.

"Wt-er?" Sam asked.

Almost instantly, a cup of cool, precious water appeared and found its way to his mouth. Sam drank greedily, feeling as though he had been deprived of water for a very long time.

"Take it easy," Dean said from somewhere above him as Sam coughed when the water went down wrong.

"Thanks," Sam whispered hoarsely once he was done with the water. He winced; his mouth felt like sandpaper even after the water.

"Are you okay?" Dean questioned from somewhere to Sam's left. Sam could hardly see three feet in any direction.

"M' fine," he mumbled. He was feeling no pain, so it was at least the partial truth. He didn't have to tell Dean that he felt like utter shit about everything that had happened between them recently.

"Sure you are," Dean said disbelievingly. "I'm sure everyone who gets stabbed with a knife, tortured by demons, and then has to go through a three hour helicopter flight over the frigging mountains while on the verge of massive cardiac arrest is perfectly fine."

"Are we talking about me or you?" Sam joked weakly.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" Dean asked sourly, but there was a slight teasing note to his voice as well.

"Seriously, Dean, I feel fine," Sam murmured. _Physically, at least_, he added silently. _Mentally… not so much_.

"Huh. Must be the morphine and all the other drugs they have you on," Dean muttered. "You have more drugs in you right now than a freaking CVS."

"Good to know, cause I think I would be seriously hurting if I wasn't on all those drugs," Sam admitted.

He remembered most of what happened to him in that cave, and shuddered at the memories. He wanted to block out the look of absolute horror on Dean's face as the knife dug into Sam's stomach possibly forever. It reminded Sam too much of what happened at Cold Oak, a memory Sam never wanted to revisit. Too many bad things had happened since then, all caused by his death.

"We need to talk about this," Dean said quietly. Sam knew he wasn't talking just about what had happened during the hunt—he was talking about the whole deal with Ruby, the apocalypse, and the demon blood.

"I know," Sam murmured. He winced as he shifted ever so slightly, trying to get more comfortable. It was impossible; he had so many wires and needles jammed into him at the moment that comfort was beyond his reach.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Damn needles," Sam muttered. He shifted again and grimaced. "I freaking hate needles."

Dean snorted a laugh.

"You go up against a werewolf and four demons single handedly without flipping out, you hunt things that would make most people wet themselves without one scream, and yet you hate needles," he said shaking his head. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"For hating needles or for drinking demon blood?" Sam questioned dryly.

The mood shifted again. It had been light and teasing, but now it was hyper tense and on edge. The dangerous dance around the issues at hand had begun. It was only a matter of time before one of them made a wrong step and the entire thing blew up in their faces. Again.

"Sammy," Dean pleaded.

Sam was shocked at the emotion he heard in the two syllables that made up his nickname. He thought Dean would have just leapt right in and told him straight out that he was a moron for drinking demon blood. But it sounded as though Dean was actually trying to make Sam feel better, that he was ignoring his hunter instincts to kill the thing Sam had become and following his big brother instincts that said to try and save Sam, no matter how hopeless it seemed. It was impossible, though. Dean hadn't been listening to the latter instincts since he had come back from Hell.

"I don't know why I did it," Sam said.

He suddenly felt the need to explain what had been going on in his head over the past year. He felt as though he never had had the chance to do so, that he and Dean hadn't really let each other explain their reasoning behind their decisions the way they used to.

"I do," Dean murmured.

Sam wished, despite his now aching head, that the lights were on, that he could see Dean's face and know what his brother was thinking. He had somehow retained the ability to read his brother, despite the gulf that had opened up in between them. It was a welcome tool as of late, when Dean didn't actually speak anymore, but it was useless now that Sam couldn't see his brother's face. He didn't understand the saddened tone in which Dean spoke. He didn't understand the outline of Dean's slumped shoulders. It was almost as if Dean thought he had failed at something.

"What?"

Sam somehow managed to put his confusion into that single word. He knew Dean would understand.

"I understand why you did the things you did," Dean elaborated. "You were scared as Hell because you were alone, you had no one to turn to, and you had no idea what the Hell to do anymore. You were desperate and then that bitch showed up and offered you the golden ticket to solve all your problems. She didn't tell you that it wasn't actually a golden ticket, more like the forbidden fruit, but that's what happened. I know, I've been there, only I knew what I was getting into. Sort of, anyway."

Sam wasn't sure what surprised him the most—the _Wizard of Oz_ reference, the biblical knowledge coming from _Dean_, or just the honest, open way Dean was speaking—but he was in shock. What Dean had said _was _the truth—Sam had been scared—but that didn't just give him an automatic freebie. What he had done was wrong, Dean had told him that several times before, but why was his brother all of a sudden accepting it?

"That's not an excuse, Dean," Sam said. "I messed up royally."

"Yeah, you did," Dean agreed bluntly. "I'm not going to lie to you. Drinking demon blood? That's not like the Sam I know. But it's nothing life threatening. Hell, the demon blood has saved your life more times than I can count. Not only recently when all you had was that _bitch_ there to protect you, but back in River Grove with the demonic virus. Remember that? We didn't know why you were immune. I guess this is our answer."

Sam remembered every single detail from that hunt in Oregon. He also remembered everything that happened directly after that hunt. Especially one thing in particular.

"I also remember that you promised Dad that you'd kill me if I ever went dark side," Sam said quietly.

"Sam, everyone makes stupid mistakes, okay? But you have _not_ gone dark side," Dean said fiercely.

Sam was taken aback by the intensity in his brother's voice. He sounded so much like the Dean before Hell, the one that would stop at nothing to save Sam's life, the Dean that Sam had been searching for ever since he had come back from Hell.

"Yes, I have, Dean," Sam whispered.

He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to hurt anyone else either. He had already done enough damage.

"You haven't used your powers to kill anyone, Sam," Dean argued. "Well, you've killed demons, but that's not the point. You use your powers to get rid of evil, and to me, that's not going dark side. That's being smart. Drinking demon blood on the other hand, that's not smart. But you're bound to make stupid mistakes; that's why God gave you an older brother who can beat you into line when you make those stupid mistakes."

Sam felt like crying. It wasn't just because of the pain that was beginning to seep into his bones as the morphine wore off. It was also because up until this moment, Sam hadn't realized just how much he had missed his older brother. He missed this Dean, the one who was willing to fight with everything he had to keep Sam, Sam. Sam needed that in his life, now more than ever. He needed his brother. And he had found him.

Then a thought hit him. How long was this going to last? He remembered the two people in his room earlier saying that it was a freaking miracle that he had survived because of the extensive damage in his stomach area (he couldn't help but think _that_ was ironic). How else could he have survived if Dean hadn't made a deal? Dean was going to Hell. Again.

Sam suddenly couldn't breathe at the thought of Dean going to Hell. He couldn't accept it. He couldn't lose his brother again. Not right after he found him.

"Sam? Sammy? Sam! Breathe, damn it!"

Sam fought hard to focus on his brother's voice, but it was a losing battle. He started to hyperventilate, bringing out an excruciating pain in his ribcage.

"SAM!" was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness again.

* * *

Sam woke up again with something over his face that made him sound like Darth Vader every time he breathed. He lifted his hand and felt the hard plastic and Velcro straps of an oxygen mask.

"Don't rip it off," Dean's voice cautioned from somewhere nearby. It sounded more exhausted then before.

Sam blinked and turned his head, letting his hand drop off to his side as he finally laid eyes on his brother. Someone had turned on the light, so he got a firsthand look at just how bad Dean really was. There were dark circles underneath his expressionless green eyes. There was a thick white cast wrapped around one of his wrists. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days and his hair was limp and oily, as if he hadn't showered.

"You look like Hell," Sam said. His voice was muffled through the oxygen mask, but the slight smirk on Dean's face told Sam that his brother understood.

"I look better than you do, princess," Dean said his smirk widening. "You really are a girl, going all weak at the knees and out of breath every time I start a chick-flick moment with you. What am I going to do with you?"

Sam heard the underlying concern beneath the gentle teasing. He also heard the question of _what the Hell happened that made you freak out_ in the amused tones.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"You had a panic attack of some kind," Dean said with a shrug. "Damned if I know what goes on in that geeky head of yours. The doc tried to throw me out. Said I wasn't a good influence on you. I threatened him with bodily harm and a trip from Bobby and he quit throwing around those orders. Guess Bobby really does scare all."

"You okay?" Sam asked looking at the white cast on Dean's wrist.

"I'm fine," Dean said shifting his weight and leaning forward so his elbows were resting on Sam's bed. "I got a broken wrist in the middle of a rockslide. Also gave myself a concussion, but I've had more concussions then I can count. How about you? Are you okay?"

"Not really," Sam said honestly, hating the fact that he sounded like he was Darth Vader. He felt like Darth Vader. He wondered absently if Dean would buy him a light saber like the one he had had when he was six and obsessed with _Star Wars_.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked. The teasing lilt was gone from his voice.

"You," Sam said bluntly. He figured he might as well not beat around the bush. Besides, Dean had been perfectly honest with him earlier. He needed to extend to same courtesy.

"What?" Dean was obviously confused and hurt. He hadn't hidden his emotions behind that brick wall of his yet. That was good. Sam needed to be able to read his brother's exact reaction to what he was going to say next.

"You made another deal, didn't you?" Sam asked his voice sharp with disbelief. "Don't bother trying to lie; I heard the doctors talking earlier. I wasn't supposed to survive. The knife wound was fatal, Dean."

"I didn't make a deal, Sam," Dean said his green eyes darkening with emotion. "I, uh, I didn't get the chance. Castiel stepped in and saved your life."

Sam stared at Dean in confusion. What the hell was going on? There was something Dean wasn't telling him, that much was obvious, but it was also true that Dean hadn't made a deal. His brother really sucked at lying, especially to Sam.

"Look, Sam, I said some things that I regret now about some stuff and so Castiel decided it was time to intervene," Dean said hurriedly. "He put me into this virtual reality thing, like when he sent me back in time to try and find out Azazel's game plan, only this time I ended up in Co-… South Dakota."

Sam felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach as he realized just what Dean meant and what he must have said for Castiel to do that. Dean thought it would have been better if he hadn't made the deal. None of this would have happened.

_He's right,_ Sam thought sadly. _He shouldn't have made the deal_.

"I'm sorry," Sam said hollowly, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry that you had to make the deal. I'm sorry you had to go to Hell for me."

"What? No, Sam, that's not what I meant. That's not what I said," Dean said quickly. "I was in a really bad place three nights ago, Sammy. The doctor had just told me you weren't going to make it, I was pissed at you for a lot of reasons, and Castiel was there and I got mad at him and started yelling things that I didn't mean. I told him that if you hadn't died in Cold Oak, then things would have been better off."

"They would have been," Sam said quietly. "You would have never gone to Hell."

"But you would have," Dean said softly. "I got the chance to see what life would have been like and I didn't like it. I would rather have Hell then know what you would have gone through for _me_."

"You honestly think you're not worth it," Sam said sadly. "You think you're not worth it, but I am. It's no wonder why people call me the smart one. You're better than I am, Dean."

"No, I'm not," Dean said firmly. "And since I'm the older brother, that's what goes."

"That's a bunch of crap, Dean," Sam said. "That has never worked."

"What are you talking about? That always works!" Dean said with a grin.

Sam was taken aback by what happened next. He knew Dean was too. It had been nearly a year since their brotherly banter.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

And with that, things might not have been perfect, but Sam and Dean were on their way back to being brothers again.


End file.
